名著阅读

They ate no potatoes that day, sweet or white. Sprawled near Brother, his flame-red tongue hiddenfrom them, his indigo face closed, Sixo slept through dinnerlike a corpse. Now there was a man, and that was a tree. Himself lying in the bed and the "tree"lying next to him didn't compare.
Paul D looked through the window above his feet and folded hishands behind his head. An elbow grazed Sethe's shoulder. The touch of cloth on her skin startledher. She had forgotten he had not taken off his shirt. Dog, she thought, and then remembered thatshe had not allowed him the time for taking it off. Nor herself time to take off her petticoat, andconsidering she had begun undressing before she saw him on the porch, that her shoes andstockings were already in her hand and she had never put them back on; that he had looked at herwet bare feet and asked to join her; that when she rose to cook he had undressed her further;considering how quickly they had started getting naked, you'd think by now they would be. Butmaybe a man was nothing but a man, which is what Baby Suggs always said. They encouragedyou to put some of your weight in their hands and soon as you felt how light and lovely that was,they studied your scars and tribulations, after which they did what he had done: ran her childrenout and tore up the house.
She needed to get up from there, go downstairs and piece it all back together. This house he toldher to leave as though a house was a little thing — a shirtwaist or a sewing basket you could walkoff from or give away any old time. She who had never had one but this one; she who left a dirtfloor to come to this one; she who had to bring a fistful of salsify into Mrs. Garner's kitchen everyday just to be able to work in it, feel like some part of it was hers, because she wanted to love thework she did, to take the ugly out of it, and the only way she could feel at home on Sweet Homewas if she picked some pretty growing thing and took it with her. The day she forgot was the daybutter wouldn't come or the brine in the barrel blistered her arms.
At least it seemed so. A few yellow flowers on the table, some myrtle tied around the handle of theflatiron holding the door open for a breeze calmed her, and when Mrs. Garner and she sat down tosort bristle, or make ink, she felt fine. Fine. Not scared of the men beyond. The five who slept inquarters near her, but never came in the night. Just touched their raggedy hats when they saw herand stared.
And if she brought food to them in the fields, bacon and bread wrapped in a piece of clean sheeting, they never took it from her hands. They stood back and waited for her to put it onthe ground (at the foot of a tree) and leave. Either they did not want to take anything from her, ordid not want her to see them eat. Twice or three times she lingered. Hidden behind honeysuckleshe watched them. How different they were without her, how they laughed and played and urinatedand sang. All but Sixo, who laughed once — at the very end. Halle, of course, was the nicest. BabySuggs' eighth and last child, who rented himself out all over the county to buy her away fromthere. But he too, as it turned out, was nothing but a man.
"A man ain't nothing but a man," said Baby Suggs. "But a son? Well now, that's somebody."
那天他们没吃成土豆，也没吃成甘薯。开饭的时候，西克索懒在“兄弟”旁边，藏起火红的舌头，靛青的脸上毫无表情，一直睡得像具死尸。瞧，那才是个男人，那才是棵树呐。躺在床上的他自己，还有身边的那棵“树”，算个啥。
保罗·D透过脚上方的天窗望着外边，又叠起双手，枕到脑后。胳膊肘掠过塞丝的肩膀，布料擦着她的皮肤，把她吓了一跳。她都忘了，他还没脱下衬衫呢。狗，她心道，然后才想起是自己没给他脱衬衫的时间，也没给自己脱衬裙的时间。不过，要知道，在门廊上遇见他之前她可就开始宽衣解带了，鞋袜在手里拎着，而且一直就没再穿上；然后他盯着她湿漉漉的光脚看，还请求和她做伴；她起身做饭时，他又进一步地给她脱衣服；考虑到他们见面不久就这么快地开始脱，你会认为，到现在他们总该脱光了吧。但是也许一个男人不过是个男人，贝比·萨格斯就总这样说。他们鼓励你把你的一部分重量放到他们手中，正当你感到那有多么轻松、可爱的时候，他们便来研究你的伤疤和苦难，而在此之前，他们已经像他刚才那样干了：赶走她的孩子，砸烂整座房子。
她得从床上起来了，好下楼去把所有东西都拼拢到一起。他让她离开这所房子，就好像一所房子是小事一桩———一件罩衫，或者一个针线笸箩，你什么时候都可以丢开或是送人。可她呢，她除了这个还从未拥有过一所房子；她离开土地面，就是为了住进这样的家；她每天都得往加纳太太的厨房里带一把婆罗门参，才能开始在里面干活，才能感觉到它有一部分是属于自己的，因为她想热爱自己的工作；为把丑恶剔除，唯有这样摘一些美丽的花草随身带着，她才能觉得“甜蜜之家”是个家。如果哪天她忘了，那么不是黄油没送到，就是桶里的卤水把她的胳膊烫出了泡。
至少看起来如此。桌上有几朵黄花，把儿上缠着桃金娘的烙铁支开屋门，让轻风抚慰着她，这样，当加纳太太和她坐下来拔猪毛或者制墨水时，她会感觉良好。良好。不害怕远处的男人们。那五个人都睡在她附近的地方，但晚上从不进来。他们遇见她时只是捏一下他们的破帽子，盯着她。
如果她到田里给他们送饭，送去用干净的布包着的火腿和面包，他们也从不打她手里接过去。他们站远一点，等着她将包袱放到地上（树底下）然后离开。他们要么是不想从她手里接东西，要么就是不想让她看见自己的吃相。有两三回她磨蹭了一会儿，藏在忍冬树后面偷看他们。没有她他们是多么不同啊，他们怎样地大笑、打闹、撒尿和唱歌呀。所有人都是，只有西克索除外，他平生只大笑过一次———在生命的最后一刻。当然，黑尔是最好的。贝比·萨格斯的第八个，也是最后一个孩子，他在县里四处揽活儿干，就是为了把她从那里赎出来。可是他也一样，说到底，不过是个男人而已。
“一个男人不过是个男人，”贝比·萨格斯说道，“可是一个儿子？嗯，那才是个人物。”
背景阅读

本书简介：

《宠儿》是托妮·莫里森最震撼人心、最成熟的代表作，现已经成为当代文学史上不朽的经典，也是美国文学史上最畅销的作品之一。小说完成于1987年，1988年即获得美国普利策小说奖。2006年《纽约时报》召集125位知名作家、评论家、编辑及文坛泰斗等选出自己心目中“25年来最佳美国小说”，《宠儿》得票最高，名列第一。

“你的爱太浓了！”——一个不可能重复的故事！！！
女黑奴塞丝怀着身孕只身从肯塔基的奴隶庄园逃到俄亥俄，奴隶主循踪追至；为了使儿女不再重复自己做奴隶的悲惨命运，她毅然杀死了自己刚刚会爬的幼女宠儿……十八年后宠儿还魂重返人间，和塞丝、塞丝的女儿丹芙以及塞丝的情人保罗•D生活在同一幢房子里。她不但加倍地向母亲索取着爱，甚至纠缠和引诱保罗•D，不择手段地扰乱和摧毁母亲刚刚回暖的生活……全书充满苦涩的诗意和紧张的悬念。

作者简介：

托妮·莫里森，美国当代最重要的女作家之一。1931年生于美国俄亥俄州，曾担任兰登书屋编辑、资深编辑，1989年起任普林斯顿大学教授。主要代表作有《最蓝的眼睛》、《秀拉》、《所罗门之歌》、《宠儿》、《爵士乐》、《天堂》等，曾获美国普利策小说奖、美国图书评论协会奖等多项大奖。1993年获诺贝尔文学奖，是历史上得此殊荣的唯一黑人女作家。